


Elliptical Orbit

by Guardian_of_Hope



Series: General Buir and Commander Ad [4]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Abuse of Authority, Bullies, Canon Typical Violence, F/M, Found Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Wolffe punches someone (aka Tuesday), meet cute, nobody falls out of the airlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-10-30 18:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10882401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: Wolffe adjusts to the General's new battalion, with a lot of bumps along the road.  He also learns that family isn't a static construct, it can always get a little bigger.





	1. It's Tuesday, isn't it

**Author's Note:**

> So, I may have realized that Koon's second command was the 124th recently. So please don't be confused. I hope to fix any continuity errors I've already created.
> 
> Secondly: The time line for this story is that it starts shortly after my story Immeasurable Worth (just after the Malevolence Arc in canon) and wraps its way around the stories I've already posted. Mostly because people want Wolffe Pack shenanigans, and I figured that exploring Wolffe's relationship with the shinies would be a good start.
> 
> Finally: The guy with the swollen knee is Comet. Just so you know.

Wolffe grunted as he half leaped, half flopped over some of the boulders that had once been located at the top of the rather steep hill behind them.  He managed to avoid the busted droid parts mostly by luck as Sinker reached to help him up.  Blaster fire from the remaining clankers made them keep their head down.  Overall, it was a typical battlefield on a planet just like any other planet Wolffe had been to.  There was only one important question.

“Where’s Boost,” Wolffe demanded.

“About three boulders that way,” Sinker pointed, “sir, you’re bleeding.”

“Winged by blaster fire,” Wolffe replied.  He knew what that felt like, the air superheated and the energy so close that it cut through the joints even without actually touching him.  “This is the last push though.  We’ll have them caught between us and the 212th with just one more push forward.”

“You’re going to have to go to medical,” Sinker said, “you ran out of bandages yesterday.”

Wolffe glared at Sinker, even though with the helmet, Sinker probably couldn’t tell.

“Don’t glare at me, Wolffe,” Sinker said, “you’ve been avoiding the CMO since you took command and you know it.  I’m not stealing bandages for you this time.  Just because Stitch isn’t Speedy doesn’t mean he isn’t competent.  He’s just different.”

“I’m fine,” Wolffe muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the clankers.  “We move when the blue flares go off.”

“Just promise me you’ll go to medical,” Sinker said.

Wolffe sighed as he shifted, “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Thank you,” Sinker said, and glanced away.  “There’s the flare.”

Wolffe surged up, hand lifting to signal the men to move forward as Sinker opened fire beside him.  Today was going to end in victory, even with a thousand plus shinies on the field.  Wolffe scrambled over the boulders and advanced.

As soon as the last clankers were confirmed inert, Wolffe hopped a speeder back to their forward camp, mindful both of his promise to Sinker to go to medical, and the blood that stained his armor.  He carefully didn’t look at the other clones heading back to camp, absently noting that while there were a few with blood on them, nobody seemed to be heading for medical.  Given that Wolffe was pretty sure he’d seen at least two speeders loaded with wounded headed out, he decided that he had to put something in the win column.

By the time he reached medical, Wolffe was surprised to realize that the CMO, Snitch? Stash? The CMO, had managed to move almost all the wounded either up to the Liberator II or to the main camp.  There was one trooper with an elevated leg and a bandage around his head, and a second that the CMO working on, wrapping a compression bandage about the man’s swollen knee. 

“I want you back at the camp tonight,” the CMO said, “you’ll need a couple of days’ rest before you start using that knee if you want to come out the other side of the war in one piece.”

“Yes sir,” The trooper said.

“For now, just rest.  A speeder will be here soon to take you back.”  The CMO stood up and reached for an antiseptic, pausing when he saw Wolffe, “Give me just a moment to clean up.”

“I just need some bandages,” Wolffe said easily, “Just tell me where to look.”

“If you need bandages, you need medical attention,” the CMO said, “Which would be my job.”

“I need bandages, not a lecture,” Wolffe said, “I’m in a hurry.”

“Not right now you aren’t,” the CMO said.  “I don’t care who you think you are, if you need bandages, I want to see the injuries.”

Wolffe hesitated, then realized he wasn’t wearing his usual bucket.  The distinctive helmet had saved his life, but had been discarded after a particularly vicious encounter with the clankers, and right now, Wolffe was wearing a plain white backup.

Wolffe popped off his helmet and glared at the CMO, “I am Wolffe, CC-3636, Clone Commander of the 104th.”  Wolffe paused and closed his eyes briefly in pain at the slip.  “The 124th.  I have after action duties I need to get to, so if you would be so kind as to provide me with bandages, I’ll be on my way.”

“Too late, Commander.  You’ve reported to medical, you go back to work when I say you’re ready,” the CMO replied, “that’s how this works.”

Wolffe snarled, “I am your superior officer.”

“Not in the medical tent,” the CMO replied. “In here, I rank everyone.”

“Then I’ll leave the medical tent,” Wolffe replied, turning away, “It was just a flesh wound anyways.”

There was a hiss of static, “General Plo Koon, do you have a moment?  This is Lieutenant Stitch in medical.”

Wolffe froze.

“How may I assist, Lieutenant?”  General Koon asked, sounding tired and distracted.

“I have an argumentative patient here, and I could use some assistance.  It is not currently a medical emergency.”  The CMO said.

“Commander Wolffe,” General Koon began.

“Begging your pardon sir, but the Commander is the patient.”  The CMO replied quickly.

There was silence, and Wolffe strained to hear something from the General’s end of things.

“I’m on my way, Lieutenant,” General Koon finally said.  “Commander Wolffe, do not shoot the Chief Medical Officer.”  There was a distinct pause.  “Again.”

“Yes sir,” Wolffe called, to acknowledge he’d heard the General.  If the CMO needed to be shot, Wolffe would be happy to oblige.  He turned to sit down on one of the biobeds with his bucket beside him.

“You know, you could just let me see the wound now,” the CMO offered.

“Or you could have let me have what I asked for,” Wolffe retorted.  “Because now, my General’s going to be doing my work along with his, instead of me doing my duty and allowing him time to breath.”

“I don’t know what kind of CMO you’re used to,” the CMO said, “but regulations exist to prevent you from overworking yourself with an injury for a reason.”

“I’m used to a CMO who trusts my judgement,” Wolffe said, “to know when I need an exam versus some bandages.”

The CMO turned away, reaching for a tray of supplies, but Wolffe still heard his muttered, “Sounds like a lazy bastard.”

Wolffe was already vaulting over the trooper with the swollen knee before he realized that the ripping snarl in the tent came from him.  He swung hard, landing a right hook to the CMO’s jaw, followed by a left jab to the man’s belly.  Before the CMO could gather himself, Wolffe grabbed him and hurled him away from the injured trooper and followed, throwing hard jabs into the man’s stomach and following with another right hook to the jaw.

The CMO didn’t even manage to get a single hit, while Wolffe had managed to get in a black eye and a bloody nose to go with the strategically placed body shots.  He was lining up to give the CMO another black eye when bands of pressure encircled his arms and torso and he was lifted into the air, almost brushing the top of the tent.

“When I said don’t shoot him, I meant not to attack him,” General Koon said, voice laced with quiet disappointment.

Wolffe growled, “I don’t care.  Nobody talks about my brother that way.”

The CMO rubbed his jaw, glaring at Wolffe.

“Which one?”  General Koon asked as he settled Wolffe on one of the beds.

“Speedy,” Wolffe replied.  “Just because he was a far better CMO than this one could ever hope to be.”

General Koon sighed, “You promised, Wolffe.”

Wolffe squirmed slightly under the weight of the General’s disappointment.

“It’s not right,” Wolffe said finally.  “He said…”

“You promised,” General Koon repeated.

Wolffe closed his eyes, wishing he could turn back time and save his brothers.

“Wolffe,” General Koon said.  Wolffe glanced up, “You will stay here and allow Lieutenant Stitch to treat your injuries.”

Wolffe jerked up, “But sir, the after action!”

“I will instruct your Captains to handle matters,” General Koon replied.  “They are green, but they have received the same training you have.  When the Lieutenant releases you from his care, you are to eat, if you haven’t already, find Boost and Sinker, and sleep.  A full night’s cycle sleep will prepare you to finish the after-action reports better than fretting and doing them on your own when you are tired and in pain.”

“I can do my duty,” Wolffe said.

“I do not doubt it,” General Koon said, “but I would rather see you healthy and rested rather than see you overwork yourself.”

“But you’re going to see General Kenobi,” Wolffe said, “I’m your escort.”

“I will get another to escort me,” General Koon said.

“But sir,” Wolffe protested.

The bed vibrated slightly and then began to hum as the restraints activated.

“You will stay here,” General Koon said firmly, “until the Lieutenant sees fit to release you.  You will not give him anymore trouble, Wolffe.  My acceptance of your personality does have a limit, when you are argumentative and stubborn to the point of jeopardizing your health.”

Wolffe sighed, “Sir, yes sir.”

“Good,” General Koon replied.  “Lieutenant, if he gives you any more trouble, let me know.  I’ll handle things.”

“Thank you, General Koon, I appreciate being able to observe a master at his craft,” the CMO said.

Once the General was gone, Wolffe stared at the CMO for a long moment before launching into precise details of the man’s presumed mating habits, defecation abilities, and every other insult and phrase he’d collected.  He was just getting into heart of his words when the CMO approached.  He had a leather strap that was wide in the middle and had a buckle on it.

“Sir, I would appreciate it if you would not teach the shinies how to swear?”  The CMO said, nodding to the two men in the back of the medical tent.  The one with the bandage looked as if he was asleep, but the trooper with the swollen knee looked fascinated, as if he’d been memorizing every word Wolffe said.  It was a starry-eyed hero worship that Wolffe had seen a time or two amongst civilian younglings, and he hated seeing it in his brothers.

“And if I karking don’t,” Wolffe demanded.

The CMO sighed, “Then I have one of two options.  The first is to use this,” he held up the strap, “and gag you.”

Wolffe bared his teeth with a snarl, “Try it.”

“Well my other option is to ask the General to come back,” the CMO said.

“Why?”  Wolffe said slowly.

“Because you are a combative patient, and I’ll need assistance to administer this,” Stitch held up a pair of hyposprays.  “As any decent Chief Medical Officer knows, the best place to put a single injection sedative or muscle relaxer is in the ass.”

Wolffe reflected that it was a shame that he hated the man, Stitch, otherwise he’d have not only found himself liking his CMO, but respecting him.  He glanced briefly at their audience, grateful that Sinker and Boost weren’t there yet.  They’d have been digging out rations and exchanging bets.  Wolffe shook his head slightly and glared at Stitch, no reason to let the CMO think he was getting soft on him.

“Now then,” Stitch said, “let’s get this armor off.  Is it your arm, your side, or both?”

“Both,” Wolffe muttered.  He hesitated, “Probably my hip, but that’s more a bruise than anything.  I stood a little too close to an explosion.”

“Well then,” Stitch said, “if I turn off the restraint field, are you going to run off?”

Wolffe eyed Stitch for a moment, “Promise not to stab me in the ass while my back is turned?”

“Not without your permission,” Stitch replied with a smirk.

Wolffe growled to himself, a reminder that he was not supposed to actually like the 124th’s CMO.


	2. Orbital Debris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning had been boring, but lunch promised to come with unexpected surprises.

If there was one thing Wolffe would admit that Speedy and the new CMO Stitch had in common, it was their persistence.  But where Speedy had been willing to pin him down wherever he found him; the mess hall, the locker room, that one time in the hall outside the General’s quarters on the _Liberator,_ Stitch had figured that the best way he could get Wolffe to do something was to get the General on board.  Which was why Wolffe found himself walking into the medbay on the _Liberator II_ during his lunch hour.

There was a woman sitting on one of the biobeds, attention focused on a datapad in her lap.  Wolffe frozen, wondering who this was.  He thought the woman was human, although he was surprised by her hair.  It had been worked into thick strands about the size of his fingers and pulled back into a tail and mostly covered by a grey and blue piece of fabric.  The grey matched the medical uniform she wore, while the light blue matched her facial tattoos.  Under her eyes were triangles that pointed downward and connected on the bridge of her nose.

After a moment, Wolffe cleared his throat and the woman jumped, practically throwing the datapad away from her.  It skidded on the next bed over from hers, stopping just short of falling to the floor.

“Sorry,” Wolffe said.

“Can I help you?”  The woman asked, standing up and tugging at the hem of her uniform shirt.

“I’m Commander Wolffe,” Wolffe said, “I have an appointment with Lieutenant Stitch to follow up with some injuries.”

“Ah,” the woman said as she picked up the datapad.  “Lieutenant Stitch isn’t here right now, he just went off duty.”

“Are you joking?”  Wolffe said, “All that effort to get me here, calling my General _twice,_ and he’s not here?”

“I sent him off shift,” the woman said, “I’m Doctor Mysta Val, chief medical officer for the _Liberator II._   Lieutenant Stitch was lead on a very dangerous and very intensive surgery that lasted nearly twenty hours.  He couldn’t even stand up straight, so of course I sent him to sleep.”

Wolffe frowned, “I hadn’t been informed of any of the vod’e being scheduled for surgery.”

“It was an emergency surgery,” Doctor Val replied, “the idiot decided that since it was _just a flesh wound_ he didn’t need medical care until he went into cardiac arrest.”

“That shrapnel thing,” Wolffe said, “where you can’t see it, but shrapnel can travel up and shred your heart, right?”

“Yes,” Doctor Val said, clearly surprised.

“We lost three men right after Geonosis to that,” Wolffe said, “Speedy had nightmares about it for weeks.”  He glanced at Doctor Val, “If the Lieutenant is unavailable, do I need to come back for the exam?”

“No,” Doctor Val said, blinking as she tried to adjust to the change in topic, “I can handle it.  She tapped at her datapad for a moment.  “It’s a follow up for blaster burns from a week ago.”

“Right,” Wolffe said.  “Good, I have a feeling if I left, the little shit would go right back to my General and claim I backed out on him.”

“You mean Stitch?”  Doctor Val asked.

“That’s what I said,” Wolffe replied as he pulled his uniform shirt off.  “Do you need to see my hip too, or just the bandages?”

“Bandages,” Doctor Val said.

Wolffe settled on one of the beds and held his arm out for the doctor.  “Why’d they assign a CMO to the _Liberator II?_   Speedy handled the medical bay and the medical station on the ground with just the unit medics.”

“I’m a volunteer, actually,” Doctor Val replied as she unwrapped the wound, “I got the impression that they want to get more trained clones planet side for engagements, so they’re looking for medical professionals willing and trained for ship work.  Not that they’ll have much luck, I think.  Most doctors go for the cushy dirt side postings where they roll in the credits.”

“Not you?”  Wolffe asked as she examined his arm.

“I was part of a volunteer medical team that did relief work.  We went places where they didn’t have trained medical professionals, refugee camps, conflict zones, to help civilians.  Did some work with the Jedi as well.  When they decided they needed more medical personnel, they asked us first.  Most of the team stayed neutral, to help out the civilians, but some were like me, we opted to go military because we were needed in places like this as much as anywhere.  Besides, I got the feeling that Master Koon wouldn’t object to doing humanitarian work if it came to that.”  Doctor Val replied.  She released his arm, “It looks good.  I’m not going to bandage it again.  There is some blistering still close to the elbow, but it’s healing.  If those blisters pop, especially if there’s blood, you’ll need to come back.  Otherwise, I’d say wait a few more days before you start sparring again.”

“Right,” Wolffe said.  “But I can start hitting the range again?”

“I’d limit the time I spent there,” Doctor Val replied, “but let me see your side before I say anything else.”

Wolffe shifted to that Doctor Val could get to his side and back easier, “So, do you have a military rank?”

“A military rank?”  Doctor Val repeated.  “I think so?  I mean, I assume so, but I don’t remember.  I’m a doctor, and in my medical bay, I’m in charge.  That’s all I need to know.”

Wolffe grunted as Doctor Val pressed on his side under his rib, wondering if General Koon had gone looking for stubborn medical personnel, or if they had just been lucky.

“Did I hurt you?”  Doctor Val asked.

“No, why?”  Wolffe asked.

“You, um, growled,” Doctor Val said.

“I do that,” Wolffe replied, “Why do you think they call me Wolffe?”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know.”  Doctor Val replied.

“Which clone was in surgery anyways?”  Wolffe asked.

“Dizzy,” Doctor Val replied, “from White Company.”

Wolffe had to think a moment before he remembered that the 124th had used color designations for their companies.  He wasn’t used to that, the 104th had chosen stellar phenomena for their companies.

“Commander!”

Wolffe turned, startled, to find Sinker and Boost helping another clone into the medbay.

“Sinker, Boost,” Wolffe said, starting to stand up.  “What’s going on?”

Sinker looked pissed and ready to bite someone, an expression Wolffe was used to seeing on Bexar or himself, while Boost actually had a gun drawn.

“Commander,” Doctor Val said, pressing on his shoulder.  Wolffe bit back a snarl, “When those blisters on your arm heal, you can start sparring again.  Other than that, no restrictions, yes, including combat.  Come back if the blisters pop or start bleeding.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Wolffe said.  He pulled his shirt on as he headed over towards Boost and Sinker.

“It’s his knee,” Boost told Doctor Val, “he’s reinjured it, but it wasn’t his fault.”

“Sinker?”  Wolffe asked.

Sinker shook his head slightly, clearly still mad.

“What happened?”  Doctor Val asked as she began touching the clone’s knee gently.

“Some assholes decided they wanted to be karking shit and convinced him he was going to get shipped back to Kamino as defective if he didn’t do the obstacle course, despite being on medical leave,” Boost said.

“What?”  Wolffe snarled.

“They’re waiting in the ready room by Koon’s office,” Boost said.  “Sinker managed that before he went pre-verbal, sir.  We also sent a couple of witnesses up to wait as well.”

“I need to get you into a scanner,” Doctor Val said to the trooper, “what’s your name?”

“9899,” the trooper said softly.

Wolffe clenched his jaw, he hated it when his brothers couldn’t find their name.  It always made him feel unsettled, like it was a reminder that their creators saw them as numbers and product, not as people.

“Can we help?”  Boost asked.

“I’ve got this,” Doctor Val said, “but you should get your Commander moving, before he terrifies 9899 any more than he already has.”

“I’m alright,” 9899 said, still soft.

“She’s right,” Wolffe made himself say, “let’s take this outside.”  In the empty hall, Wolffe turned to Sinker, “Let it out.”

“I wasn’t in the room or I’d have shut that down,” Sinker said, “but I heard plenty.  They called him a defect, that he shouldn’t have been decanted and now we all knew it.  There was a sergeant involved, at least, who claimed he was sending 9899 through on your orders.  9899 tried to remind them he was on medical restriction, and they laughed and said if he wasn’t shot it didn’t count.  Two of 9899’s batch went for help.  I sent Meteor to get Boost and kept Asteroid with me to keep me from just killing them.  9899 went up the course before I could stop them.  Boost and I sent the sergeant and his unit to the ward room, and Meteor and Asteroid were to wait at your desk.”

Wolffe closed his eyes, “I’m going to take a guess and say that’s not all they said.”

“I flashed so hard on Kamino, Wolffe, it was like I was hearing the fucking trainers all over again.”  Sinker said, “Only worse, because it was a brother.”

Wolffe pulled Sinker into a hug, knowing what his brother meant.  They held each other, both fighting memories of the hell that was Kamino.  Wolffe kept his hands light, one just above Sinker’s hip, the other holding his shoulder blade, easy to release when Sinker wanted out.

It wasn’t long enough by Wolffe’s estimation when Sinker stepped back.  He wouldn’t hold, wouldn’t keep Sinker close, not when Sinker was ready to move, but it wasn’t enough for him.

“What’s the plan?”  Boost asked quietly.

Wolffe knew that to outsiders, the three of them probably looked nearly joined at the hip, but Wolffe and Sinker had come from the same batch, had trained in the same unit, had dealt with the hell of Wolffe daring to have a tubemate, but daring to help his brother keep up with the rest of them in the face of all difficulties.  Boost had been a brother assigned to Sinker’s squadron in the weeks after Kamino, interesting only in that he watched Sinker’s back for Wolffe when the Commander was needed elsewhere.  Losing the 104th had brought Boost closer to them, a defense against stares and whispers, but there was still a space between Wolffe and Boost, a space that only Sinker could fill.

“I want the General involved,” Wolffe said finally, “and their captain.  I won’t stand for that sort of bullying in the 124th, especially not when a brother gets hurt.  There’s going to be some shake ups in the command structure out of this.  But I want to question our idiots before anything else.”

“It’s too late,” a soft voice said.

Wolffe spun to find a pair of brothers coming up the corridor.  One of them had three lines on his left cheek, just simple and black.  The other had three line on his forehead, running from his hairline to between his eyebrows.

“Meteor, Asteroid,” Sinker said, “what happened?”

“One of them had a comm and called Captain Adam,” the vod with the cheek tattoo said.  “The Captain said that he was countermanding your orders, Lieutenant sir.  That blatant disregard for command wasn’t to be tolerated.”

“We thought we’d best find you, sir,” the other vod said, looking nervous.  He stood a step behind his brother, almost hiding as he looked between the three of them.

Wolffe felt Sinker’s hand against the small of his back, “You did good, Asteroid.”

“Thank you, sir,” the nervous brother said.

“Did they explain what happened to the Captain?”  Wolffe asked.

“Not that we heard,” the lead vod, Meteor, replied.  “We just heard the stuff the Captain said mostly.”  Meteor hesitated, “And there was this creepy blond hanging around, not a brother, muttering about urgent messages for the General and wondering where you were.”

“Don’t worry about the blond, he’s one of the comm officers, he runs messages up for the general sometimes.”  Wolffe jerked his head at the medical bay.  “In there.  You’ll wait with 9899.  Don’t leave the infirmary, no matter what happens, until the General, or one of the three of us comes for you.”

“Yes sir, but why?”  Meteor asked.

“Because I don’t hold with that sort of speech,” Wolffe said, “tubemates or not.  If Captain Adam thinks he can cover it up, he’s going to be learning a very difficult lesson on the matter.”

“Who said we were tubemates,” Meteor said, and Asteroid gasped, ducking even further behind Meteor.

“I know what to look for,” Wolffe replied bluntly.  He stepped away from Boost and Sinker, reaching to put his hand on Meteor’s shoulder.  “Tubemates who make it off Kamino are a rare breed, we’ve got to look out for each other.”  He offered them a wink.  “Now get in there, okay?  Everything’s going to be taken care of.”

“Yes sir,” Meteor said with a salute, Asteroid a moment behind him, then the pair scurried into the infirmary.

Wolffe turned, “Sergeant Boost, gear up and get back here.  I don’t want anyone in that infirmary who is not a medic or a medical emergency until you hear otherwise.  I’m not taking chances.”

“Yes Commander,” Boost saluted and left.

“Lieutenant Sinker, my compliments to Captain Adam, and would he please join General Koon and I at,” Wolffe checked his chrono, “Fifteen hundred hours for a discipline meeting.”

“Yes sir,” Sinker said.

“And Sink,” Wolffe said before Sinker could leave, “ask him with bells on.”

Sinker grinned, the feral one that Wolffe answered easily, “Sir, yes sir.”

Wolffe headed up to pull on the more formal command tunic he owned, the one with all the fancy hardware that people seemed to think he needed.  Then he headed for the General, pleased to note that the suicidal comm officer was gone.  With one of the breathing masks out of his desk in position, Wolffe keyed in the urgent message code on the access pad and waited for the door to open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, yes, that's Bart, the suicidal comm officer that creeped out Meteor.
> 
> Meteor and Asteroid are tubemates (twins!) like Wolffe. Timeline wise, this is before Bexar and Wolffe are reunited, fyi.
> 
> Mysta Val is a Kiffar, if you're reading SRR and think her clan marks are familiar, that's because Kara's in the process of rescuing Jedi General JARAN Val. They're clan-cousins. 
> 
> If anyone wants to suggest what the SW equivalent name for "Doctors Without Borders" would/could be, I'd appreciate it, since Mysta was with that particular group prior to her joining the military. (Her rank is PROBABLY Captain.)


	3. Space Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation begins, and a clone comes home.

Plo Koon stood behind his desk as Wolffe came into his office, wearing a breathing mask and dressed in a formal tunic.  He’d been aware of his commander since Wolffe had left for lunch and medical, but had refrained from interfering in the explosion of emotions he’d sensed.  Wolffe was a volatile man, prone to frequent struggles with anger.  With the 104th, Plo Koon had worried less about the commander, Wolffe’s captains had been his friends, and he’d had his unit to turn to.  With the 124th, Wolffe turned more and more to Sinker and Boost, unwilling or unable to reach out to his people.  After learning about Bexar, Plo Koon had allowed himself a hope that returning the wayward twin would give Wolffe the grounding he needed to reach out.

He could only hope that whatever had brought Wolffe into his office, filled with a righteous fury and the soul deep pain that only showed itself when Wolffe thought of Kamino.

“Koh-to-yah,” Plo Koon said, “what brings you here Wolffe?”

“We have a situation down in medical,” Wolffe replied.  “When I… met Lieutenant Stitch after our last engagement, there was another brother in the tent, with a wrapped knee.”

“I remember,” Plo Koon replied, remembering Wolffe’s violent rage and grief, how he’d had to remind Wolffe of the boundaries they could not cross.

“Apparently, the brother, 9899, is being bullied, along with two others,” Wolffe said.  He turned away from Plo Koon, who could sense his sudden struggle with his anger.  “His tormentors told him today that he would be sent back to Kamino as defective if he didn’t perform on the obstacle course. On _my_ orders.”

“Is he well?”  Plo Koon asked, understanding Wolffe’s struggle for calm.

“He aggravated his knee,” Wolffe replied, “Doctor Val was examining it.”  He turned to Plo Koon, “General, Sinker heard those tormentors, he said it was like hearing the trainers on Kamino all over again.  He tried to stop up, but wasn’t fast enough.  He sent the tormentors up to the ward room to wait for me, and had two more witnesses waiting as well.”

“I should like to speak with them,” Plo Koon said.

“Well apparently, they sung some story to their captain, who overruled Sinker’s orders and let them leave,” Wolffe said.  “Our witnesses heard some of it, but they came to find Sinker before the captain knew they were around.  I told them to wait for us in medical, and Boost is standing watch.  Sinker, I sent to tell Captain Adam to meet you and I at fifteen hundred.”

“I see,” Plo Koon said.

Wolffe faced him fully, at attention, “Sir, I know my temper.  There’s times when it’s an asset as a commander, especially on the field of battle, but this isn’t the right kind of battle.  In all honesty, I want to shove all five of them out the airlock, but I don’t know if it’s because they’ve targeted one of my shinies, or if it’s something more personal.”

“I understand, Commander,” Plo Koon said.  He reached out and called his mark to him.  “I want to meet these brothers.  9899 first, and then the others.”

“Asteroid and Meteor are the witnesses,” Wolffe said, “I didn’t ask for the names of the others, I felt I’d be less likely to shoot them.”

Plo Koon put his hand on Wolffe’s shoulder, “That you recognize that there is a time and place for your brand of justice is a strong step forward, Wolffe.  I am proud of you for it.”

It was, perhaps, far too easy to pretend he couldn’t see the faint blush on Wolffe’s cheeks because of his mask, just as Plo Koon was long aware of the need to pretend he didn’t notice the pleasure his words gave to his commander.

/././.\\.\\.\

When Meteor, Asteroid, and their unit had arrived with the 124th, Meteor had decided almost immediately that he wanted to be just like Commander Wolffe.  Wolffe had shown up in the middle of General Plo Koon’s speech of welcome, had glared at them one at a time until they’d had to avert their eyes, and then ordered them to collectively not die because he hated having to do paperwork before he’d summoned up a Sergeant he called Boost and left them standing in the hanger to follow the General.

Lodestar, the closest they had to a commanding officer, had tentatively asked Sergeant Boost if the Commander had been angry about _them._   The Sergeant’s dismissive laugh and assurance that Commander Wolffe was always like that had made 9899 and Nebula pull back a little, while Quasar took it for reassurance.  They’d been assigned barracks and met the squad they would be joining, Seventh Squadron out of White Company, as well as their actual sergeant, a clone named Dizzy.

It had been all right at first, they weren’t in combat yet because the General was providing support for a series of endless space battles, but there was a lot to do with adjusting to life onboard a cruiser.  Their first taste of combat had been all right.  White Company had been held in reserve until Wolffe had collected them for a maneuver designed to break the last of the separatist lines and Seventh Squad had been poorly located when a sep barrage had come down.

Loadstone and Quasar were in bacta for at least another week, Nebula was on his way to collecting his first ‘real’ scars, and somehow Meteor and Asteroid had managed to come out unscathed.  9899 had done something to his knee during his dive for cover that had seen him on restricted duty, which was probably where the trouble began.

With Loadstone and Quasar in bacta, Meteor had the job of looking after three very different, trouble prone introverts.  Nebula, at least, was happy to curl up under one of the bunks with a reader when he wasn’t on duty.  Asteroid preferred to just follow Meteor everywhere, which made it easy to protect him.  9899, however, was the wanderer.  It was why Meteor was determined to tag him as Comet, that brother just couldn’t stay in one place, even if going out alone was what made him a target in the first place.

Which was why Meteor was confined in the medical bay with nobody to make sure Nebula came out long enough to eat and clean up today while half sitting on Asteroid so that the medic, doctor, could finish dealing with 9899’s knee.  Meteor had attempted an escape attempt already, but Sergeant Boost was out there, in full armor, with a blaster and had ordered him back inside.

“You didn’t damage it any further,” Doctor Val announced, as she came in the room.  “But you have to stay off your leg, 9899.  I recommend you stay here for a day, just to let the swelling go down again.”

“Yes doctor,” 9899 said softly.

Doctor Val sat down on the edge of 9899’s bed and Meteor shifted, wanting to move closer.

“The reason Stitch and I both are telling you this is because knee joints are surprisingly easy to damage if you don’t take care of them,” Doctor Val said gently.  “Once they get beat up enough, they just start breaking down.  We can, and frequently do, replace knees with bionics, but if that’s what you need, you’d be out of the fight for at least a year recovering and retraining, and bionics don’t work as well as the original.  An extra two weeks now to let this heal will save you a year in recover, understand?”

“Two more weeks,” 9899 said, horrified.

“At least,” Doctor Val said, “but hopefully with a day of bed rest, you’ll be able to get moving around again tomorrow.  We’ll have to evaluate then.”

Meteor could read 9899’s thoughts as easily as if they were his own.  This sounded like something that would get 9899 sent back to Kamino.  The infirmary door slid open and Meteor surged to his feet, Asteroid a step behind him as General Plo Koon came into the room with Wolffe on his heels, wearing a tunic that had an impressive collection of medals and ribbons.

“Doctor Val,” General Koon said, “how is 9899?”

“As I was just telling him,” Doctor Val said, “he didn’t damage his knee any further, but I want him on bed rest at least for the rest of today, and to extend his medical restrictions.”

General Koon stroked his mask a moment and nodded, “Thank you, Doctor Val.  May I speak with him?”

“If you don’t mind me working on his knee at the same time,” Doctor Val said, “I want to rewrap it and fit him with a brace.”

“Go right ahead,” General Koon said.  He walked over and sat on the edge of 9899’s bed, opposite of the injured knee.  “Koh-to-yah, 9899.”

“General,” 9899 said.

Meteor shifted slightly, he wanted to do something, touch his brother in comfort, but training kept him still.

“You are not going back to Kamino,” the General said firmly.  “If your injuries require a long convalescence, we would send you to the Refuge, but an extended medical restriction is not a reason to send you away.”

“But the Sergeant,” 9899 whispered.

“He lied,” the General said, holding a hand up as Commander Wolffe growled.  “Commander Wolffe never gave that order, any more than either of us ever would.”

Meteor eyed his commanding officer, feeling a bit nervous.  He’d never hear a sound like that before.  It must have been the closest a human throat could get to the sounds a wolf made.  For a moment, he wondered if Wolffe had practiced that sound, to cultivate that touch of wildness.

“9899, why have you not chosen a name?”  The General asked suddenly.

Meteor frowned slightly, shifting his stance carefully to brush his knuckles against his tubemate’s hand.  9899 was squirming under the Kel Dor’s gaze, head ducked down and clearly uncomfortable.

Then 9899 went still and sighed, his voice was barely above a whisper, “Because I’m a defect, I don’t deserve a name.”

“What?”  Meteor said, hearing Asteroid gasp beside him.  He ducked his head when the General and Commander turned to stare at them, “Sorry sirs.  But that’s why you won’t let me…”  Meteor trailed off.

“You are no defect,” the General said quietly, “if you were unfit for combat, you would never have graduated.”

“But I got hurt,” 9899 said, looking startled at his own words.

“Nor where you the only one,” the General said, glancing over his shoulder at the Commander.  “A wound is a wound, 9899.”  He paused and turned to Meteor, “You have a name for him?”

“I tried,” Meteor said bitterly, “Comet, sir.  Because he likes to wander, but he always comes back.”

The General nodded, “9899, would you accept this from me.  You are no defect.  You deserve to have a name, and your brothers want you to have one.  Will you accept that?”

Wolffe stepped forward, moving around Doctor Val to put his hand on 9899’s shoulder.  “You survived Kamino, which is more than many ever have.  You survived your first battle, and you did well.  Don’t let some karking _di’kut_ take that from you, don’t let them win.  Take your name, any name, and make it your victory cry.  Trust me, vod’ika, nothing will prove them wrong more than by taking everything they ever said about you and turning it back on them.”

After a moment 9899 nodded, “I like Comet, though.”  He gave Meteor a shy smile.

“All right Comet,” General Koon said, “now I need you to tell me about what happened today, and how many times it has happened since you arrived here.  We need to know everything.”

Wolffe slid back around Comet and moved back over by Meteor and Asteroid, “Go ahead and have a seat,” he murmured, “the General can be relentless when he needs to be.”

“Yes sir,” Meteor replied, easing back down on the biobed with Asteroid.

“Are there other members of your unit out there?”  Wolffe asked.

“Nebula, sir,” Meteor said, “he was still in the barracks, last I saw.”

“Nebula likes to be under the bed sir,” Asteroid offered, “It lets people ignore him easier, and he doesn’t get in trouble for being somewhere like the air vents.”

“Quasar and Loadstone are in bacta,” Meteor added.

“I know he wasn’t a witness, but I’m going to get Nebula down here,” Wolffe said, “call it a hunch.”  He walked away and Meteor glanced at Asteroid.

His tubemate gave him a quick smile and leaned over to bump their shoulders together.  “It’s going to be okay.”  Asteroid whispered, “We’ll all be fine.”

Meteor was surprised to realize he was feeling hopeful, for the first time in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think of the clones finding their real names is like coming home, or finding their home.


	4. Clearing Orbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolffe and Plo Koon deal with Captain Adam. Sinker brings news to his newest charges.

Captain Adam was five minutes late.  Wolffe, standing up and leaning against his desk was supremely annoyed that the General had insisted on leaving his blaster in the desk instead of on his hip.  He wouldn’t have shot the Captain, not without warning and provocation.  Still, there was something about the clone who came sauntering towards his desk that made Wolffe want to rest his hand on his blaster.

“Make sure you get a new chrono after the meeting,” Wolffe said before Adam could say anything.  “When I said fifteen hundred, I meant fifteen hundred, not fifteen oh five.”  He straightened up and moved to key in the code to open the General’s office.

“Sorry sir,” Adam said, “um, don’t we need…” he faltered when Wolffe glared at him.

“The General had the atmosphere in his office adjusted for the meeting.”  Wolffe said as the door swung open.  “No masks needed.”  He stepped inside and gestured Adam to follow him.

General Koon was standing behind his desk, mask in place, hands tucked behind his back.

“General Plo Koon, this is Captain Adam,” Wolffe said, moving around the hesitating brother to take up a position behind Koon’s desk.

“Sir,” Captain Adam said with a crisp salute.

“Have a seat, Captain,” Koon said gesturing to the single chair before his desk.  “I’m sure you are wondering why you are here.”

“I assumed it had to do with the incident between one of the lieutenants and Sergeant Del earlier today,” Adam said.

Koon stroked his mask, “Tell me, Captain, what did Sergeant Del say happened.”

“He said that the Lieutenant was blaming him for some shiny being hurt when the trooper had already been injured.”  Adam said, “I have it handled, sir.”

“Which lieutenant was it,” Koon asked.

“Sir?”  Adam asked.

“Which Lieutenant was it,” Koon said.

Wolffe wanted to move when Adam hesitated, like he was contemplating a lie.

“Lieutenant Sinker,” Adam said finally.  “Overstepping his bounds again.”

Only a pressure on his shoulder, like the General was holding him in place, kept Wolffe’s reaction down to a grunt.

“How do you come to that conclusion?”  General Koon asked.

Adam shrugged, “Sir, everyone knows the Commander’s indulgent to Lieutenant Sinker and Sergeant Boost.  They’d get away with murder and the Commander would help.”

Wolffe shifted, that touch on his shoulder pressing a little harder.  “I would have thought the rumor was that Wolffe would be the murderer and Sinker and Boost would hide the body,” Koon murmured.  He held up a datapad, “This is a copy of the incident today, taken from the security footage.  It also has an interview with the trooper who was injured, Comet.  While he did have a preexisting injury, Sergeant Del’s actions aggravated those injuries to the point where medical has restricted him to bed rest.  There are also recordings of other incidents experienced by Comet, and his squadmates Meteor, Asteroid, Nebula, Quasar, and Loadstone.  These are not interviews, but security footage taken from the ship’s system.  What I find interesting, however, is this.”

Plo Koon activated a holo projector on his desk, and an image of Adam showed up with two other clones Wolffe didn’t realize.

_“Sir, are you sure about this?”  One of the unknowns asked._

_“We all three know, these shinies are soft,” Adam replied, “The Jedi on Kamino aren’t pushing them the way the_ Cuy’val Dar _would have.  I’m not going to risk my life just because the Jedi are afraid of weeding out the defects.”_

_“But surely the Jedi…”_

_“I got a look at those shinies, two of them are tube-mates.  Jango Fett is rolling in his grave right now.”_

There were three pressure points on Wolffe now, both shoulders, and his chest.  He leaned into them, accepting the reminder that he’d promised to allow the General to deal with Adam.  He also understood why the General had refused to let him see the security footage.

“I am a Jedi above all,” Plo Koon said softly while Adam blanched, “so while part of me wishes to see you left to Wolffe’s tender mercies.”

“An airlock’s too good for him, sir,” Wolffe growled softly.

“I have a different solution.  To start, you are being demoted to Lieutenant, for encouraging your subordinates to abuse the men in their command.  Secondly, you are being transferred.  Jedi General Pong Krell has been asking for experienced officers to help bring down the high number of casualties he’s sustained lately.  You are being transferred to his command effective immediately.  A shuttle will be arriving at twenty-one hundred hours to bring you to him.”

“And Sergeant Del?”  Adam asked after a long moment.

The pressure, and reminder, faded and Wolff stepped forward, “Sergeant Boost is of the opinion that with a firm hand, Del and his people can be salvaged to some extent.  Del be demoted, and they will become part of Boost’s squadron.  It may have escaped your notice, but while you were a cadet under Jango Fett; Sergeant Boost, Lieutenant Sinker, and I were promoted to trooper under Jango Fett.  As was my tube-mate, Bexar.”

“You?”  Adam said, jerking in his seat.

“Me,” Wolffe said quietly.  “And for the record, Jango Fett was the only one who consistently supported tube-mates in training.  He’s the only one who never voted a tube-mate as defective.  Point in fact, if Jango Fett had had his way, more tube-mates would have been promoted to trooper.”

He knew that in standard years, Adam was maybe three or four years younger than him, but in that moment, Adam seemed so impossibly young.  Wolffe wondered what had happened to make the man so convinced that they were weakened by the Jedi, not made stronger.  He knew he was a better, stronger man because of Plo Koon, who had cared enough to look beyond his angry defenses to teach him better ways to react and interact with others.  It wasn’t easy, he still wanted to shove Adam and Del out an airlock, but he trusted his General to do things right.

“I suggest you go and gather your things, Lieutenant,” General Koon said, “and say your goodbyes.”

“Del and his men are in isolation right now,” Wolffe added.  “I’d recommend you don’t try to see them.”

“Yes sir,” Adam said.  He stood up and left.

Once the airlock was sealed, Wolffe moved to take Adam’s chair, “What the hell did he experience on Kamino, General?”

“I do not know,” Plo Koon replied.  “I have asked Shaak Ti for more information on his training, but perhaps it is that he was a favorite of one of the trainers who left after Jango Fett died, and was no longer a rising star after the restructuring.”

“Jealous because he wasn’t favorite anymore?”  Wolffe asked, and shook his head.  “That makes no sense General, any more than what you’re letting Boost do to the others.”

“You said yourself that trooper training under the _Cuy’val Dar_ was different, harsher, than cadet training,” Koon said.

“Yeah, but letting them go up for ARC training if they can survive Boost?”  Wolffe said, “Wouldn’t that be a reward?”

“Considering the things that have been said about the _Cuy’val Dar_ methods, I do not think any of them will meet Boost’s standards without having a change of heart on certain matters.”  Koon said.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Wolffe replied, “I think it’s more that I don’t trust them.  It’s hard to overcome ingrained thinking like that.”

“You are strong,” Koon said, “and your brothers can be equally strong if you permit them the chance.”

“Well, if we catch them bullying anyone again, I reserve the right to toss them through an airlock,” Wolffe decided.

“Wolffe,” Koon said.

“And onto a transport to ship them back to Kamino,” Wolffe continued grudgingly.

/././.\\.\\.\

Sinker changed back into his everyday ship side uniform before he headed down to the infirmary to pass on the news to his brothers.  He found them involved in a card game with Doctor Val that looked pretty cut throat from the way they were groaning and shouting.

“Gentlemen, Doctor,” Sinker said after a moment of observation.

“Lieutenant!”  Meteor and Asteroid both started to stand.

“Stay seated,” Sinker said.  He gave them a quick smile, “I come bearing news for all of you.”

“Is everything okay?”  Doctor Val asked.

“Well,” Sinker said, “things certainly got interesting.  But first of all, Doc, you _do_ have a military commission, you’re a Major, should you chose to enforce it.”

“Okay,” Doctor Val said.

“You outrank Lieutenants and Sergeants, and are on level with the Captains,” Sinker said, “Only the General and Commander are higher ranked, although there is a seniority ranking among the Captains that would put two or three of them ahead of you.”

“Good to know,” Doctor Val said.

“Now, as for Captain Adam,” Sinker said, “he’s being demoted and transferred.”  This was the tricky part, he didn’t think these brothers would gossip, but being overheard was possible.  “The General can’t justify a punishment for his _attitude,_ but he did abuse his rank and lost it.  He’s going to a different command, with a huge black mark on his file.”

“But he’ll be gone,” Meteor said firmly, “good.  What about Sergeant Del?”

“Also demoted,” Sinker said.  “Now, his punishment is somewhat complex, because the General feels that Del and the others can be salvaged.  They’ll be seeing some different punishment duties for a while, but they’re also going to be under Boost’s command.”

“They’ll still be here,” Meteor said.

“And if they say anything to any of you, you’ll report it to me,” Sinker said, “They’re getting a second chance on the General’s orders.  They fail at it, and they get to go back to Kamino for retraining.”  He crossed his arms, “As I said, they’ll be in Boost’s squadron, and that’s not going to be easy for them.  Boost’s like me and Wolffe, old school.  If I know Boost, and believe me, I know him very well, he’s going to legally make their lives a living hell by giving them exactly what they wanted.”

“What does that mean?”  Asteroid asked.

Sinker shook his head slightly, “It’s hard to explain because your frame of reference is limited, but I’m asking you to trust me that it will be sufficient for them.”  He sat back, “Now, the General and Commander have also decided that you four, and Loadstone and Quasar, should be transferred to my command in Blue Company under Captain Reed.  Your new Sergeant is Volt, and for now it’ll be just the six of you under his command.”  Volt was due for a promotion soon, and Sinker was hoping that Meteor or one of the others would prove to be a natural leader for this particular squadron.

“Wouldn’t you be up for promotion to White Company?”  Doctor Val asked.

Sinker smiled, “Another time, maybe, but Adam made some really loud noises about favoritism and such.  If I was promoted to Captain of White Company, it would look like the Commander, if not the General, were playing favorites.  Lieutenant Keely’s getting tapped for that.  He’s got a steady head and a good instinct, he’ll be able to fix whatever damage Adam did to the company.  Besides, I like being a lieutenant, it’s less restricting than being a captain.  I’d have stayed a sergeant if Wolffe hadn’t of needed me.”

Sinker considered his brothers for a moment, then glanced at Doctor Val, “I do have an offer for you, and your other two when they’re out of medical.”

“Sir?”  Meteor said.

“ARC trooper training,” Sinker said.  “Wolffe and the General have spaces coming to them and by the time you’re all cleared from medical, they’ll be running another class.  If you want to try for those training slots, I’m willing to help.”  He stood up and patted Meteor on the shoulder, “Think about it, all of you.  There’s no shame in saying no, okay?  No matter what your reasons, we won’t think less of you.  Either way, you’re clear to leave medical.  Del and his cohorts are still restricted, so you won’t run into them.  Check in with Sergeant Volt when you do leave, you have new quarters to move into.”

“Understood sir,” Meteor said.

“Doctor,” Sinker added with a nod.

“Lieutenant,” Doctor Val replied.

Sinker left the infirmary and headed up to his quarters.  As a Lieutenant, he stared a room with one of the other Blue Company Lieutenants, but he knew that Dex would be with Keely, celebrating the latter’s promotion.  They’d probably also take advantage of Keely’s private quarters for a private celebration.

Which was good, because when Sinker stepped into his quarters, he found Boost waiting for him with a bottle of the latest “secret stash” and a kiss.  A good ending to a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little more info dump than originally intended, but I couldn't write out the horrible things Adam says. Just... imagine that those recordings are the words of a bigot in the extreme.
> 
> I will admit to having some fun with the Wolffe and Plo dynamics, as per usual.


	5. Synchronous Orbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolffe has an unexpected assistant on a quiet afternoon.

Dr. Val was a ghost on the ship for the most part.  Wolffe rarely saw her outside the infirmary, and between his own duties and disinclination to go to the infirmary, their meetings were rare.  He couldn’t say why he wanted to speak with her, but sometimes when he was signing reports, he found himself thinking of her competence in handling both himself and Comet.

He wanted to meet her again, just to see what she was like when she wasn’t being the doctor.

A thud and the sound of two people quietly fighting brought Wolffe out of his thoughts abruptly and he glowered as Sinker came into view, half carrying Comet.

“Sinker,” Wolffe said.

“I brought you a present,” Sinker announced, lifting Comet and dropping him onto Wolffe’s desk, hesitating just long enough for Wolffe to claim his datapad.

“Why?”  Wolffe asked.

Sinker leaned over, planting both hands on Comet’s back as their younger brother squirmed.  “He’s aptly named, he does _not_ stay where I put him.  I was hoping you’d sit on him for a bit.”

Wolffe studied his friend, wondering what Sinker was going on about now.  Then he nodded, “Fine, I’ll keep him here.  But you’d better explain in full later.”

“I’m sure Comet would be more than happy to,” Sinker replied as he stepped back.  With a salute, he turned and walked away.

Wolffe waited until Sinker was out of sight, “All right Comet, get up and explain,” Wolffe said.

Comet rolled off the desk to his feet and saluted, “Sorry about that sir.  Although, I’m not entirely certain what upset the Lieutenant.  I’m off duty, and I was just walking and thinking.”

“That’s all you were doing?”  Wolffe asked.

“Yes sir, I wasn’t even in a restricted area or anything,” Comet said.

Wolffe sighed and refrained from rubbing his forehead.  “All right then, why don’t you go get a chair from the conference room down the hall and bring it back over here.  I might have a job for you.”

“Yes sir,” Comet said.

Wolffe transferred a few things to a second data pad and handed it over when Comet got back, “These are the lists from our last engagement, I want you to go through and mark which ones have come back to full duty, who’s on heavy restriction, who’s on light, and if anyone was sent on to the Refuge.”

“Yes sir,” Comet said as he took the datapad.

They worked quietly for a while, until the door to the General’s office opened and General Koon came out. 

“Koh-to-yah, Wolffe and Comet.”  

“General,” Wolffe replied as Comet shot to his feet and saluted.

“As you were, Comet,” General Koon said.

Comet slowly sat back down, looking nervous.

“Everything all right sir?”  Wolffe asked.

“Just fine,” General Koon replied, “I thought I’d go up to the mess for a snack is all.  Shall I bring you back something?”

Wolffe considered it, and shook his head, “I’m fine for now.”

“Comet, would you like anything?”  General Koon asked.

“N-no sir,” Comet replied, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“If you’re sure,” General Koon said, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Yes sir, General,” Wolffe replied.  He watched the General leave and turned to Comet, “You know, he’s not going to bite you.”

“Sir?”  Comet asked, with that slight widening of eyes he always seemed to get when Wolffe talked to him.

“The General, he won’t bite.”  Wolffe said.

“I-I know that sir,” Comet said, his face darkening as he blushed and looked away.

Wolffe pointed his stylus at Comet, “That looks like guilt, Comet.  What are Sinker and Boost up to now?”

“I’m sure I don’t know sir,” Comet replied, not looking at Wolffe.

“I’m sure,” Wolffe said.  He looked back at his datapad, “Although, I’m sure you know that if I wanted to go find out.”

“Lieutenant said I was supposed to trip you and sit on you if you tried,” Comet blurted out, Wolffe glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.  “I told him I wasn’t sure I could, and he said all I could do was try.”

Wolffe hid his grin, because that definitely sounded like Sinker.  “Well, I won’t make you try.”  He glared at his datapad, “But next time Sinker tries to tell you something like that, just remember, you’re talking to the guy who spent three cycles being called Fart before people forgot why.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Comet said quietly.

“When you finish those lists, you can go back to barracks,” Wolffe added.  “I’m not leaving until this is all done.”

“Yes sir,” Comet said.  He hesitated a moment, “I don’t _know_ what they’re up to, but Quasar was taking buckets of paint to the hanger earlier on the Sergeant’s orders.”

Wolffe blinked, and sighed, “Now I don’t want to know.”

Paint in the hanger could mean many things, most of them probably involved messes.  As Wolffe signed off another report, he resolved to move ‘clean the hanger with a small brush’ up his list of punishments.

The General had come back with a tray, leaving them with a pot of caff, before Comet finished his assignment.  He left the datapad on the edge of Wolffe’s desk, put the chair back, and vanished down the hall.  Wolffe moved the datapad into his to do pile, he’d have to review and sign off of course, and turned back to the requisition orders he had to approve and pass on to the general.

The 124th ran on paperwork, and all the paperwork came to Wolffe before the end.

“Wolffe.”

Wolffe did not jump, but he did fumble his datapad, “General Koon?”

“Orders from the Council,” General Koon said, “We’re needed to back up the 425th and 429th.  We’ll be there in twelve hours, I suggest you eat and get some sleep if you can.”

“Yes sir,” Wolffe said, standing up.

It turned out that they were, apparently, serving as support while General Saje and General Val’s troops assaulted a Separatist stronghold that held Jedi prisoners, and in the flurry of gearing up for battle Wolffe forgot all about Comet’s afternoon as his aide.  At least, that was until Wolffe joined his General on their way to the hanger and he got a look at their gunships.

Someone, and Wolffe was already imagining the ways he could make Boost and Sinker pay, had painted the gunships with the image of their General and two of the trooper buckets, adding in large and brilliant colors “Plo’s Bros.”

“I’ll get them to repaint them when we get back,” Wolffe managed.

“Why?”  General Koon asked, “I like it.”

“Understood sir,” Wolffe said.


	6. Altered Trajectory P1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolffe spends a little time with a new brother.

The shuttle jerked and Wolffe tightened his grip on the seat.  He couldn’t touch anything, not with the way Lodestar was handling things.  All he could do was keep his mouth shut and let Lodestar fly.

It had been a routine trip to one of the medical centers to check on some of the wounded from the last engagement with the 425th and 429th that had needed more care than could have been given on the ship.  Wolffe had been delayed, speaking with Commander Saneone, who had been checking on his people, and avoiding General Val, unwilling to even look at the General after what had happened.  They’d hit the midpoint of their journey back to the _Liberator II_ about two hours behind schedule, only for a Sep fleet to drop out of hyper as they had changed heading for the next jump to hyperspace.

Loadstar, who had apparently just missed Fen Rau’s cut off point for his pilot class, had responded to the appearance of Vulture droids by recording a quick mayday and then going silent as he sent the ship forward.

Wolffe had been mostly asleep until the first explosions had sent the ship spinning, and now all he could do was watch.

“Got the _Lib II_ , sir _,”_ Lodestar announced suddenly, “they’re on their way, but it’s a three-hour flight.  No one else can get here quicker.”

“I don’t think we’ll make three hours,” Wolffe said, then grunted at another close shot.

“Well,” Lodestar said, “we might, but it’s risky.”

Wolffe considered, “I take it it’s a do and die or die situation?”

“A what?”  Lodestar asked, “I don’t know what that is, sir, but it’s risky.”  He spun the ship, “There’s an asteroid belt.”

Wolffe’s stomach dropped as he was pressed into his seat, Lodestar must have messed with the internal dampers.

“Do it,” Wolffe said, “I court death, not invite it to supper.”

“As you say sir,” Lodestar replied.

As they soured towards the asteroid belt, Wolffe reflected that he might have spent too much time reading those translated pieces from the Baran Do Sages on their way to the medical station.  General Plo had given him a datapad preloaded with the translations after the campaign and suggested that Wolffe might find them soothing.

If Plo meant they were a good way to fall asleep, Wolffe had to agree with him.

“Once I get the vultures off our tail, we’ll go to ground on one of the big ones,” Lodestar said, “If I do this right, they won’t notice us for a while and the _Liberator II_ can get here on time.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Wolffe replied.

It started well, with Lodestar slipping into the asteroid belt ahead of the vulture droids, and weaving through the various spinning rocks with the kind of attention to detail that Wolffe had noticed in those brothers who had gone pilot. 

Lodestar stiffened slightly, “Uh oh,” he muttered.

“What did you break?”  Wolffe asked, the words almost automatic.

“I didn’t, sir,” Lodestar said, “but something’s loose that shouldn’t be.”  He flipped a series of switches, “But the good news is that there’s a rock ahead that will suit our needs and the last vulture droid that pinged us got smashed.”

“Can you fix the ship?”  Wolffe asked.

“It would be my pleasure, sir,” Lodestar replied as they soured up to one of the larger rocks in the asteroid belt.

They landed safely, but the ship shuddered alarmingly in the process.  When Lodestar turned in his seat, he was clearly worried.  “Sir, the ship will fly, and for the moment, the life support systems are working, but the problems…”

Wolffe freed himself from the harness, “What problems, Lodestar?”

“The heating and cooling system’s gone out,” Lodestar said, “you wouldn’t notice now, but it’s going to get very cold soon.  Second, the hyperdrive’s out, which means that even when we take off, we’re stuck here until the _Liberator_ gets back.  Third, something’s damaged the comm, our broadcasting is limited a great deal, nearly to line of site.  Our emergency beacon is still working according to the diagnostics.”

“Anything else?”  Wolffe asked.

“There are some energy fluctuations throughout the lighting grid, so I can’t guarantee that all the lights will work, and we’re out of hot water.”

“Any good news?”  Wolffe finally demanded.

“We’ll be able to fly when the _Liberator II_ gets here, no problem.  It’s just going to get very cold in the process.”

Wolffe nodded slightly, “I’m not that skilled at tech repair, but tell me how I can help.”

“Sir,” Loadstar looked startled.

“Well, you clearly know what you’re doing, and I don’t,” Wolffe said, “Therefore, you’re in charge of this.”  He paused and smirked, “Do you want that in writing?”

“N-no sir,” Loadstar said, he stood up, “I’m going to go check the engine room.”

Wolffe turned to watch Loadstar leave, frowning.  He’d looked over the kid’s record while considering him for sergeant, and had learned that Loadstar had been a sergeant once and had requested demotion before they’d left Kamino.  No real reason had been noted in the record beyond that it had been a personal choice, and General Ti had granted it.

It was part of the reason Wolffe had chosen Loadstar to be the pilot on this jaunt instead of one of their regular pilots.  He wanted to better understand this brother who was clearly a natural leader, who assumed the responsibility of leading others, but refused the rank that would give him the authority.  Loadstar had proven reluctant to speak to him at all, and had pointedly changed the subject twice.  Wolffe could only hope that this unexpected detour would allow him to gain understanding of his odd brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being 1 of 2, because reasons.
> 
> Now, the thing with Wolffe and Jaran Val? I want to tell this story, it's an amazing story. The catch is that the SRR main timeline is months behind General Buir and telling that story will spoiler SRR. So you're going to have to wait to hear this story, or imagine your own version


	7. Altered Trajectory P2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolffe and Lodestar have a chat.

When Wolffe had put him in charge of the ship, Lodestar quickly convinced himself that Wolffe meant just the repairs.  He wasn’t as mechanically inclined as Quasar, but Lodestar could generally find his way around an engine.  He decided to focus on the heater first, not wanting to be responsible for Wolffe getting frostbite waiting around for him to do something.  There were things that weren’t done and letting Wolffe get hurt in a situation where it could be avoided was one of them.

It still took him by surprise when Wolffe came by with a blanket from the emergency supplies and dropped it on his head.

“What?”  Lodestar asked as he pulled the blanket off and stared up at Wolffe.  There was something surprisingly majestic about Wolffe in his blacks, wrapped in one of the silvery-grey emergency blankets similar to how the General wore his cape.

“You’re shivering,” Wolffe replied, “and they’ll be here soon enough.  Relax a moment.  I heated up some stew from the supply cabinets.”

Lodestar hesitated, staring at the series of burned out fuses he would need to replace, then stood, wrapping the blanket around himself, “Yes sir.”

“Wolffe is fine,” Wolffe said, startling Lodestar.  He gave Lodestar a sharp grin before heading up to the lounge area, “Don’t know as you’ve noticed, but between Plo, Boost, and Sinker, your whole unit’s going to end up adopted.”

“Adopted, sir?”  Lodestar asked.  He really wanted to ask about the Commander calling the General his first name, but figured adoption was a safer topic.

Wolffe shrugged, “ _Aliit,_ or something like that, I think.  Sink’s my last unit vod, and Boost’s the last 104 th, and Plo’s, well, he’s Plo.  They want something to happen, I’m not going to be able to stop them.”

“Oh,” Lodestar said, startled by Wolffe casually throwing around _aliit._   It wasn’t a forbidden word on Kamino, but there was a lot of emphasis on them being brothers first, there was little to no room for families there.

The soup turned out to be decent, and warm.  Lodestar appreciated the warmth more than the taste.  It did help a bit with the steadily growing chill that he had ignored until Wolffe brought it to his attention.  After eating, Lodestar huddled in his blanket, not quite ready to go back to work.  Then Wolffe sighed and slid over, reaching out to pull Lodestar into his side, wrapping his arm around Lodestar’s shoulders.

“Sir?”  Lodestar asked.

“I have a question for you,” Wolffe said quietly, “you won’t like it, but I need an answer.”

“I’ll do my best sir,” Lodestar replied, shifting a little so that he was more comfortable.

“Why did you request a demotion on Kamino?  Why didn’t you stay a sergeant?”  Wolffe asked.

Lodestar tensed, feeling Wolffe’s hand tighten on his shoulder for a long moment before relaxing into Wolffe’s side again.  Maybe he needed to say this again.  It had been hard to ask the General the first time, if they understood.

“Do you know how lucky you are?”  Lodestar said.  “I’ve talked with Sinker a bit, about being in a unit with tubemates, and there’s a difference between us.  You were the natural leader of your unit, and good at it.  Sinker said you had things you struggled with, that you had to work for, but it was easy for you.  You just had five idiots to corral instead of four.  General Ti told me I was a natural leader, and a good one, because I did what I did for my brothers, to keep them alive, but I’m not,” he hesitated, “Leading in a fight, figuring tactics and strategy, it wasn’t ever easy for me.  I struggled through that course work, because as bad as I could be, my brothers were worse.  On top of that, I had tubemates who couldn’t stop antagonizing the trainers.  Meteor’s always had that punch me tone and a fight me attitude, and with Asteroid, it’s a two for one deal.”

Wolffe laughed and Lodestar smiled.

“Then there’s Quasar, and he all about explosives, the bigger, the better.  Reigning him in can be a full-time job.  He used to get in over his head with those classes.  Nebula can be good at pulling him out of it, but,” Loadstar sat up, away from Wolffe’s warmth and comfort, “Nebula is a big reason why I stepped down.  I was so busy, struggling with my own deficiencies, trying to keep Meteor and Asteroid from getting marked defective because they pissed off the wrong trainer, babysitting Quasar to keep him from blowing up something important, I never noticed.”

“Noticed what,” Wolffe asked.

“The other cadets were bullying Nebula and Comet,” Loadstar said.  “Neither of them had chosen a name, well I hadn’t either, but they were using that as an excuse to go after Nebula and Comet.  I didn’t realize how bad it was until the day Comet snapped and took Nebula along with him.  I was in tactics classes, and Quasar was in bacta from another mishap, but Comet and Nebula took on a whole damn company of the freshly graduated troops.  Biggest brawl Kamino had ever seen by the time everything got shook out.  Nebula started hiding after that, and Comet, well, that’s when he really picked up that tendency of wandering around when he needs to think or can’t sleep.  I didn’t even see it coming, and what kind of leader am I if I can’t see that my people are about to lose their shit like that.”

Loadstar stood up, “I’m sure you’re thinking about that about to be open Sergeant’s position, and sir, I can’t stop you from promoting me to it, but I don’t want it.  There are better leaders than I am.”

Leaving the blanket behind, Loadstar went back to finish trying to fix the heater.  As he passed through the door to the engine room, he heard Wolffe unleash a torrent of cursing that made him flinch.  Maybe he’d said a little too much.


	8. Rescue

Wolffe was mostly positive he’d managed to kriff up everything he’d been trying for with Lodestar, given how quickly his vod had vanished back into the engines.  He had wanted to see how Lodestar felt about the promotion, given that it was coming open rather quickly.  He didn’t want to promote someone worse, and Lodestar’s assessment of his brothers was about the same as Wolffe’s own.  After a few moments to let Lodestar calm down, Wolffe got up and headed back to the engine room.

“Lodestar,” Wolffe said, “you’re not a bad leader.”

“Uh-huh,” Lodestar said, his attention focused on some wiring.

“You already do everything a sergeant is supposed to, the rank just means that you have ways to protect your brothers that you don’t have now.”  Wolffe carefully knelt across from Lodestar and his scattered parts.  “I have to promote someone, and in your unit, you’re the natural choice.  If I transfer someone from outside your unit, I can’t promise that they’ll be as good a fit.  If I could, I’d promote someone and transfer Boost, but his squad are in no way ready to be promoted.”

“We can manage with a bad fit,” Lodestar said, not looking up.

Wolffe closed his eyes for a moment, “Lodestar, stop for a minute.  I’m going to try to explain.”

Lodestar looked up, “Yes sir?”

Wolffe figured he probably deserved that one, “I took command of the 124th in its entirety.  I only brought Boost and Sinker with me because we were all that survived.  I spent time and effort on the 104th, promoting the good ones, putting people into positions where they would be good and thrive.  I didn’t get that with the 124th, I have a command structure that I didn’t build and isn’t the best.  That’s how and why Adam ended up with as much power as he had, he was a Captain when I got him.  I can’t just demote the entire structure, not here in the field, all I can do is fill in gaps as they open up.  Sinker, for all he complains, is going to get a Captain slot at some point, but Boost, he’s a good sergeant and that’s as high as he’ll go, or wants to go.  All I want from you is a good sergeant who I can trust and who can look after his people, and if it works the way I think it will, you’ll be my go-to for PSD on Plo.”

“PSD?”  Lodestar asked.

“Personal Security Detail,” Wolffe replied.  “I mean, he’s not leaving the ship without me if I can help it, but I can’t always call Boost and Sinker to back me up, being able to take your squad with us would work.”

“But we’re undersized,” Lodestar said, he glanced at the parts and held his hands up, “and I can’t fix this.  For all I know, I’m making it worse.”

Wolffe chuckled, “Come back up to the lounge, at least we’ll be off this floor.  As for your size, a six-man PSD is actually a good size.  Throw in Boost and Sinker, and me of course, and we’ll be a match for anyone getting ideas.”

Lodestar got up, shivering even as he pulled his blanket tighter.  They went back to the lounge and Wolffe wasted no time getting Loadstar pulled in with the blankets around them again.  Lodestar didn’t really say anything, he just rested his head on Wolffe’s shoulder and breathed.

Wolffe let his head lean on top of Lodestar’s, breathing in the scents of his brother as a reminder that he was not in that damn pod again.  They were going to get out of this because Plo was coming and nobody was hunting them.  They were safe.

It wasn’t that Wolffe fell asleep as much as that he had been content to just rest, wrapped up in his brother and the blankets that kept them warm, but the comm’s sudden chirp did manage to startle him out of his head.

Wolffe held up his comm when it chirped again, “Wolffe.”

“Commander,” Plo said.

“General,” Wolffe sat up, startling Lodestar.

“We are here,” Plo said, “the Separatists are gone.”

“I’ll get the ship started,” Lodestar said, sliding out of Wolffe’s hold and rewrapping his blanket around him before vanishing up to the cockpit.

“We’re on our way,” Wolffe said, wishing he could follow his brother.

“You are unharmed?”  Plo asked.

Wolffe shrugged, “I hit my head, but other than that, I’m fine.  Lodestar too.  It’s just blasted cold.”

The ship shuddered and lifted away from the asteroid and Wolffe took a deep breath.  “Wolffe,” Plo said gently.

“We’re in the air,” Wolffe said, “we’ll be out of this asteroid field soon, Plo.”

There was a long moment of silence, then, softly, “Hurry home, ad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ending this here because I don't know where else this can go. You may also notice that the series order has been changed. This story ends and Reunion will follow. Then whatever comes next.


End file.
